The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1887-04-22

The pictures we're chiefly modern
and were none too well lighted; had
barely glanced at them. Cassimir led
me to this one, which hung in dark
corner, so high that the flame of a
candle held up at arms length but Just
revealed il. The face was long, thin,
sharp featured and sallow, with the
prevailing mustacbe and imperial Of
the time. On the whole, | felt happier
about Morsieur Morizpt. He had the
gentle, high bred l,ok of that Van
Dyck father in the long gallery of the
Louvre.
"And yet be hates women. Was he
never marrIed?"
"Never, monsieur; in youth he had
a disappolntm, mt, they say, and now
it would be somewhat late for him to
think again of that. AT his age one no
longer makes such plars."
His hand shook more than ever and
the melted wax Of the candle ran over,
one drop falling upon the floor. "He
is good, the patron" he murmured, so
tenderly that the drop might have been
|
When the old retainer had left me l
dismissed all scruples and unpacked my
trunk in the little chamber, singing to
myself in the happipst of moods. l
was in luck, evidently. Even should
Monsieur Morizot turn up, | felt sure
that he would accept my explanation,
supposing one to be necessary. But
he would not some. doubted Cassi-
mir no longer
found in the library an arm chair
covered with stamped leather like that
of the walls; the arms supported by
hard featured goddesses-- wood nymphs,
perhaps-redurdant in the matter of
bust, tapering off like terminal figures
into the chair legs below. Wheeling
this up to the table, / sat down for a
while to do nothing and devour my
BRAIN, as the inhuman proverb puts it.
In the gathering twilight the room was
almost dark, but | saw it all, or nearly
all, over the mantel in a narrow, OBJ
long mirror, there reflected by Cassi-
mfrs cheerful blaze. The first fire of
the season invites contemplation, and
my thoughts wandered as fitfully as
the mellow light that played about the
tarnished gliding of the leather.
When l am alone | am apt to grow in
consequent to degree that would dis
tress one who makes labor of think
ing.
Hunger is sharp reminder, and be-
fore long realized that l was hungry.
So l hastily pulled myself together,
and shutting the door upon my golden
walls, strolled up the boulevard to the
Passage des Princes. l dined well at
Peters, opposite the window of in
Vulnerable meerschaums, and after din
ner went out by the side gate of the
passage into the rue Favart. The
doors of the Opera Comique stood in
vltingly open, and l was tempted to
cross the street and read the bill of the
play: "L'Ombre," of Flotow; Gounod's 5
Gallia." In the first, Mime. Priola
Lovely Nine. Priola, long since for
gotten! Do you live on, to look into
your glass and sigh for those dear old
days when all Paris adored you? Or
have you made, in truth, your final
exit into Pere-la. Chaise or Montpar
nasse, to sleep out there longer night
than any other you have known? To
one cruelty of life all mans exper-
ience can never reconcile HIM that a
pretty woman may not hold her own
forever.
went in, stayed the performance
out and left the theatre somewhat
dashed in spirits; the echo of Gounod's
solemn music seemed to follow me like
ghostly football under the faring
lights, by the painted kiosk windows
The sky was overcast; a drop or two
of rain fell. The great doors of SO
were closed and locked, of course; at
that hour | could have expected moth
ing else. But Ca.imir slept soundly;
it vas long before | could make him
hear, though / pulled the bell till the
whole place resounded. The rain came
on in earnest, and l was at the de
spairing point, when the door gave a
welcome click and swung back an inch
or two. | stumbled in through the
darkness, passed the lodge where l
could hear Casimlr swearing to him
self drowsily, without thought of
challenging me; and guided myself by
the hand rail of the staircase straight
to my own door. / struck a match,
found the key and went in.
The outer rooms were black and un-
friendly; through them | saw a thread
of light from the library door, to which
l groped my way. The light came
from stately moderator lamp that
stood upon the table, and | blessed
Casmir for his forethought. But for
the lamp, the room, at the first glance,
seemed to be as | had left it. The
carved chair was drawn up before the
fire, which still burned brightly. That
found a fire and not heap of ashes
might have struck me as a curious cir
cumstance, but | set this down TO Cast.
mrs torethought, too; all the more
readily that my clothes were met and
that needed it to dry them, as l pro-
ceeded to do.
Standing thus before the chimney,
with the cracking fagots at my heels,
| observed book upon the table. 1t
lay close to the arm of the great chair
so close, in fact, that one sitting
there could hardly fail to see it even
at twilight. Yet it had escaped my
notice until now. What book I The
moment my unspoken question was
answered felt absolutely sure that it
had never before been in my hands
Its vellum covers were worn and worm
eaten; its musty leaves were yellow
with age. read the title, "The Trial
of Francois Ravailac for the Murder
of King Henry IV-l6l0" / could
hardly have forgotten that book had
taken it down.
Immediately a strange terror seized
me; vague, unreasoning it was, like a
child's in the dark. | dropped the book,
caught up candle and peered in the
chamber then searched the other
rooms throughout, saw no one,
heard no sound | was alone Yet
this owledge failed to reassure me.
| spoke and was startled at nv own